


The Flame King's Bride

by TempestuousChaos



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Armor fucking, Bottom Galo Thymos, Detroit!Lio, Falling In Love, First Time, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Top Lio Fotia, Virgin Galo, Wedding Night, Wife Galo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestuousChaos/pseuds/TempestuousChaos
Summary: Galo Thymos is an orphan who has trained to be a Wife his entire life. As a Promepolisian Wife, his duty is to be wed to a member of the Burnish elite, ensuring peace between the once-warring kingdoms of Promepolis and Promare.Now his wedding night is here, but Galo hasn't even met his husband. Who is the mysterious Burnish man he's been wed to, and what kind of work is he doing?The more Galo learns about his husband and the kingdoms of Promare and Promepolis, the more he realizes that the truth is much more complicated—and darker—than he could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Aina Ardebit/Thyma, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 18
Kudos: 136





	The Flame King's Bride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GALO WIFE GALO WIFE GALO WIFE GALO WI

Galo was nervous. Not just because of the obvious—that he was in a strange place, in a strange bed, wearing nothing but a sheer firetruck-red babydoll—but because this was the moment his entire life had been leading up to. Tonight was the culmination of all his training.

Galo had been training to be a Wife since as early as he could remember, which was around age nine or ten. It was a duty to be proud of—after all, Wives maintained the peace between his kingdom, Promepolis, and the once-hostile kingdom of Promare. According to the treaty forged 100 years ago, both sides would cease their 30 years of war and Promepolis would provide the Burnish elite with wives as a gesture of ongoing goodwill.

Galo had always eagerly awaited this day, but now that it was here, he was a worried mess. It started when his wedding day was set in stone a week ago, and since then he’d been feeling more and more anxious with each passing day. He’d been assured it was just wedding jitters, but Galo was starting to think it was more than that. It was his wedding night and he hadn’t met his husband at all, not to mention that he didn’t even know his name! He repeated his mentor’s words in his head, but the cryptic advice did little to soothe his nerves; if anything, it only further frayed them.

_"It might hurt at first, but it will get better. Just act like it feels good and do as you’re told, okay?”_

_What_ would hurt? That had been the one question his mentor refused to answer, apparently because Galo had to maintain his “innocence” at all costs. His mentor had promised that he would know soon enough, that his new husband would “show him.”

“ _I_ _know you’ll do great._ _You’re our academy’s finest. Our kingdom is depending on you.”_

No pressure. Great, now Galo was anxious _and_ stressed out.

Galo was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he practically jumped when he heard the door creak open.

Galo’s racing mind skidded to a halt as in stepped a very tall, very large...something. After a moment of dumbstruck silence, he recognized the hulking form as Burnish armor. In that case...

This must be his husband.

It was like Galo could feel all the air leaving the room as the door clicked closed behind him.

 **“** **Galo Thymos, I assume?”** his husband spoke in fluent Promepolisian, his voice deep and mechanical through the armor. It sent a jolt down Galo’s spine.

“Yes, sir.” Galo folded his legs beneath him and bowed his head politely, hands laid neatly in his lap.

**"The journey wasn’t too rough, I hope?”**

“Not at all, sir.” Truth be told, the journey had been rather harrowing. After spending a full three days in a bumpy horse-drawn carriage, Galo had finally arrived, exhausted, in the capital of Promare earlier that morning. Since his arrival, he’d barely had a moment to breathe as Burnish servants rushed him first to supper, next to a chapel-like area where he signed his name on a marriage certificate, and then to the baths, where he was cleaned inside and out, perfumed, and put into the lingerie he now wore.

His husband eyed him as though he detected the lie, but he didn’t say anything, only stepped further into the room. He swept his gaze over the scene, then gestured to the decorations.

**"Is the room to your liking?”**

Galo was starting to feel like this was an interrogation, and he was terrified he would give the wrong answer. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Galo said, putting on his most gleeful smile. He really did like it. There were fragrant rose petals scattered across the bed, and candles lit by Burnish flame adorned every flat surface, flooding the room in soft candlelight. It all gave the room an unexpectedly romantic atmosphere, though the smell of the rose-scented candles was a bit on the strong side.

A pregnant silence elapsed, with Galo and his new husband staring at each other, neither making a move. It was a painfully loud kind of silence. Galo felt obligated to break it, somehow.

“Um, I can speak Burnish, by the way,” Galo ventured in perfect, albeit careful, Burnish. It bugged him that his husband was not speaking in his native language. Galo didn’t want to force his husband to speak a second language on his account.

 **“** **That’** **s** **good** **to hear** **,”** his husband said in Burnish. Then, switching back to Promepolisian: **“But tonight we will be speaking in Promepolisian.”**

Galo nodded. If his husband really wanted to speak in Promepolisian, he supposed that was fine. It was not as if Galo had any right to protest.

Once again, his husband regarded him eyelessly, and Galo fiddled uneasily with his chemise strap, beginning to fear that his husband could see right through him. Maybe he could. After a moment his husband just nodded curtly, as if satisfied with whatever he’d seen in Galo, and climbed onto the bed.

Galo had to remind himself not to shy away from the strong advance. He remained frozen even as his husband shifted closer, the weight of his armor causing the mattress to dip. A massive claw tipped his chin up, and Galo squeezed his eyes shut as his husband trailed his claw down, running it over his body. Galo shivered, noting how the claw was smooth and warm, sliding easily against his gooseflesh skin. His husband’s caress almost felt reverent, but he never said a word, so Galo couldn’t be sure.

Galo was so lost in the feeling of being touched he barely noticed when his husband slipped the straps of his chemise off his shoulders and coaxed him out of the garment. It was much harder to miss when his husband’s claws found their way to his panties and tugged at the waistband. Galo jerked back, alarmed, and his husband stopped immediately, raising a claw to cup Galo’s face.

 **“You can trust me,”** his husband assured him in that rumbly voice of his. A large, obsidian finger fanned across his cheek.

Galo nodded numbly, not entirely convinced. This must have something to do with what his mentor had refused to tell him. If so, he had no choice but to trust his husband and do whatever he said to. He had a duty to fulfill.

“I’m fine,” Galo said, forcing the fear down. But his husband didn’t move, only continued to stroke his cheek.

Galo screwed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the sensation of large claws at his waistband, for the mortification of being laid bare before this stranger. It never came. Instead, a claw found its way to his groin, stroking him through his panties.

Galo let out an undignified sound, then slapped a hand to his mouth. It was so unexpected, and it felt so strange; at least it _had_ felt strange, but now a new feeling was building. It was a good strange that pooled deep and low within him. Unbelievably, his panties were starting to get incredibly tight. When Galo looked down, he was shocked to find his cock hard, a visible bulge tenting the bright red panties that were now just barely managing to cover him.

Somehow, he didn’t care as much as he did before.

It must have been his husband’s intention to distract him, because a moment later, his panties were off, his cock standing up proudly with nothing to hinder it.

His husband drew back and sat on his heels, expression utterly undecipherable through his armor. Galo was beginning to wonder if there was a human being in there at all.

But there must be, because Galo could feel his gaze raking over him, everywhere it touched burning like fire. Suddenly _very_ aware of his compromising position, Galo reached a hand to his cock to obscure it from view, his whole face flushed. It was a bit late for that—his husband had already seen everything there was to see—but his modesty would not allow it. Each second in which his husband sat there staring stretched into an eternity.

After an excruciating thirty seconds had passed, his husband seemed to snap out of whatever trance he’d been in, much to Galo’s relief. He reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a tube of something and a towel.

 **“** **L** **ie** **back,”** he commanded, and Galo obeyed. Galo lifted his hips as instructed, letting his husband situate the towel beneath them.

Galo’s husband then squirted a clear, thick-but-liquidy substance into his hand. He let it sit there a moment, his claw glowing faintly like the coils of a stove.

His husband pushed his hand in Galo’s direction, urging him to touch the substance coating it. **“Is it too warm?”**

Galo hesitantly reached a finger out, and with an encouraging nod from his husband, dipped it into the steaming glop in his hand. He almost whipped his hand back. It was _scalding_. Galo retracted his hand slowly and forced a smile onto his face. But Galo was starting to get the inkling that whatever the stuff was, it would be applied to his skin, so he answered his husband’s question honestly. “It’s...a little on the hot side...”

His husband nodded, squirting some more into his palm, letting it sit there for a few seconds. When he held his hand toward Galo again, Galo tested it cautiously, fully expecting it to be just as hot as before.

He was pleasantly surprised to find it warm, but not hot. It wasn’t too cold, either. Just right. “It’s nice.”

It could have been the already pervasive smell of roses from the scattered petals and the scented candles, but Galo could almost swear that the viscous stuff smelled like roses too.

Galo may have been imagining it, but his husband seemed pleased. He rubbed the substance between his fingers, coating them. With his clean claw, he urged Galo’s legs apart. Galo didn’t comply at first, the embarrassment from earlier returning in full force, but the expectant air hanging about his husband and the words of his mentor compelled him to. When the deed was done, Galo turned his head to the side, unable to look his husband in the eye.

His husband let him, and for that, Galo was grateful. He was already much too far outside his comfort zone.

Galo gasped when warm, wet fingers circled around his cock, pumping it languidly. It was a new feeling. Whatever hardness he had lost was quickly regained as the feeling low in his stomach was stoked back to life. Galo was starting to get lost in the feeling, letting it fog up his mind to the point where he nearly didn’t notice what his husband did next.

Galo’s husband’s other claw, fingers now coated with the strange substance (when had he done that?) found its way to his hole.

Galo let out a squeak, the action so unexpected he whipped his head up to look, eyes demanding an explanation.

His husband didn’t provide one. Galo tried not to squirm as he massaged the tight ring of muscle, spreading the viscous liquid in and around it. He took a moment to squirt more of the stuff into his claw, heated it again, and addressed Galo directly.

**"This may feel a bit strange, but I promise it won't hurt. If it does, tell me immediately.”**

Galo nodded his head stiffly, petrified.

His husband inserted the tip of one of his fingers.

“Agh—!” Shit, it _hurt_. Galo grit his teeth against the unpleasant burning sensation, his insides tightening around the intrusion.

His husband withdrew his finger and coated it with twice as much of the stuff as before.

 **“Relax,”** he said. His voice was still deep and mechanical, but it sounded softer this time, like the man behind the mask was trying to sound soothing. ****“It will feel better if you do.”****

Galo tried to even out his breathing and keep his muscles from clenching up. His husband resumed his attentions on his dick.

Somehow, with those two distractions diverting his attention, his husband managed to slip an entire finger inside him. It was quite an accomplishment, considering how big they were.

**"Does it hurt?”**

“No.” It didn’t. The extra glop of the liquid-like stuff had eliminated that initial burn, and his husband had gone very slowly. Still, he was acutely aware of the foreign object inside him. Galo wasn’t sure if he liked it.

**"You’ve been doing a very good job, Galo. Let me get you a reward.”**

His husband crooked his finger, groping around inside him—Galo could feel it. It was like he was searching for something, though Galo couldn’t begin to imagine what—

Galo cried out as pleasure ripped through him, setting him alight.

His husband stilled his finger. Evidently, he’d found what he’d been looking for.

“What—” Galo began, but his question was cut off by another flash of pleasure as his husband curled his finger a second time, prodding some place inside him that made him see stars. If Galo didn’t know any better, he would say his husband was smirking behind that mask.

With Galo still reeling from the pleasure, his husband worked a second finger in up to its second knuckle, giving Galo a moment to adjust to the increased stretch. Then he scissored his two fingers, opening Galo’s hole up wider.

When he was satisfied with his work, his husband sat back on his heels. Galo peeked open an eye, wondering what his husband was doing now. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he saw the armor around his husband’s groin melting away.

It was the first time Galo had ever seen another person’s dick, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It hadn’t even been touched yet, but it was fully erect and leaking. It wasn’t as thick as his own, but it was longer and had a nice curve to it. The skin was also lighter than his own, he noticed, though it was hard to tell how much lighter with most of the visible skin flushed an angry bright red. The pale green hair that framed it provided a sharp contrast in color.

His husband picked up the tube and emptied more of its contents into his hand, taking his time slicking his dick up. His huge claw would have been able to envelope it entirely, so he wrapped two fingers and a thumb around his length as it twitched slightly in his grasp. Galo stared, enraptured.

Galo could have stared at it for longer, but his husband didn’t let him dwell on it for long. Once his dick was coated to his liking, he shifted forward to kneel between Galo’s legs.

Galo gasped when he positioned the head at his entrance.

In a moment of terrifying clarity, Galo realized exactly what was going to happen, where that dick would be going, what this entire night had been building up to. “It won’t fit,” Galo said, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.

**"It will. Trust me.”**

His husband extended a claw which Galo grabbed gratefully, squeezing it with all his might. It was a small gesture, but it made him feel just a tiny bit better, like he wasn’t alone.

He had to do this. For peace between Promepolis and Promare.

Galo repeated that mantra to himself as his husband hooked one of Galo’s legs over his broad shoulder and gripped his waist with his free claw.

Then he pushed his hips forward.

Galo gasped as he was entered.

His husband inched inside slowly. Galo hissed as the burn returned, ever so slightly, and his husband squirted the tube’s contents directly onto where they were joined. It was cold at first (Galo could see why he’d taken the time to heat it up in his hand before), but it quickly warmed up when in contact with his husband’s skin.

It took several minutes, but eventually, Galo’s husband had completely sheathed himself inside him. He didn’t move at first, letting Galo catch his breath and adjust to the strange sensation. It didn’t hurt, but like with his fingers, it was an awkward feeling. Galo could feel the tickle of his husband’s pubic hair against his perineum, feel his balls resting against his ass. They were so close. They were _connected_.

Galo raised his head and tried to meet the eyes of his husband through the mask. He couldn’t see them, of course, even though his husband’s face was turned towards his own, but the way his armor glinted in the candlelight was mesmerizing, and Galo felt his face flushing for reasons completely unrelated to their physical connection. His heart flickered like the candle flames around him as he contemplated the events of this evening and the man he was connected to. His _husband._ The candles, the rose petals, the way he held his hand when he was scared: it was all for him. For Galo. They were such sweet gestures, but of course they were: this man had been nothing but sweet and gentle with him this whole evening. By and large, the night had been pretty scary for Galo, but it was also new and exciting and pleasurable, and he couldn’t think of a single person he would rather be sharing it with.

Galo thought that maybe he could grow to love this man.

 **“I’m going to move now,”** his husband said, phrasing it like a statement but meaning it like a question.

He was asking for his permission.

Galo nodded eagerly, needing him to do something, just not quite sure what.

Now that he had his consent, his husband pulled out partway and slammed back in. Galo _keened_. His husband took note of the reaction and did it again, and again, and again.

He was setting a steady pace now, getting Galo used to the feeling of being filled over and over and over again, each inward thrust punctuated by a high-pitched _“_ _Ah!_ _”_ from Galo.

Except for the occasional check in, Galo’s husband didn’t speak. He was practically silent aside from the little mechanical grunts he made, each one sending bolts of electricity straight to Galo’s dick

Galo was shaking. It was so much. He had never experienced anything like this before, hadn’t even imagined that this kind of ecstasy could exist. It was overwhelming and it just kept _building_ , every thrust flinging him higher and higher. Galo whimpered and clutched at the sheets, instinctively pushing his hips down to meet his husband’s thrusts, chasing the extra friction.

His husband’s rhythm faltered as he shifted his hips and tried thrusting in from different angles, searching for the right one. It didn’t take long for him to find it.

Galo screamed, clenching hard around the dick inside him. Galo heard the armored man above him emit a sharp little **“ _Ah_ _—!_ _”_** that had him dying to hear it again.

Galo’s husband began to pound in at that angle like he’d locked onto his target. And God, if it was good before, then this was _mindblowing_. Each thrust nailed Galo’s spot with deadly precision, sending sparks bursting across his vision. How was it even possible for such a beautiful dick to make him feel so wonderfully full, to hit all the perfect spots inside him just right? Maybe he was made for this. Every nerve in his body was on fire and all he could think about was how good, good, _good_ it all was.

Lewd squelching sounds echoed around the bedchamber as his husband rammed in hard and fast, but not unkindly. Never unkindly.

Galo knew he was close, on the cusp of something overwhelming and new. The feeling that had been building gradually all evening, coiling low in his stomach, was reaching a crescendo. His whole body felt lit up, like a circuit channeling more electricity than it could withstand. It was only a matter of time until he exploded. Galo moaned helplessly, utterly overcome.

It only took a few thrusts aimed straight at that sweet spot inside him for Galo to topple over the edge, back arching off the bed as his vision went white and he spilled all over his abdomen and chest.

His husband continued on, working Galo through his orgasm as he quickened his pace, recklessly pursuing his own climax. When he finally reached his peak, he froze up, made a strangled sound that was warped by the voice filter of his mask, and released inside Galo.

Galo didn’t remember much after that, but he could recall hazy snatches of memory. There was the sensation of being filled with a thick liquid warmth and whatever it was leaking from his hole, down his crack and onto the towel beneath his hips. There was a wet towel being run over his skin. There were tender, strong arms laying him back in bed, tucking him into the softest nest of blankets and pillows Galo had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Then there was morning, and Galo was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing from a bottom's POV,,,,is hard. rip


End file.
